I Remember Halloween
by Brandon League
Summary: One unassuming day, Daria becomes obsessed with a classic punk tune.


"I Remember Halloween"  
A Piece Of Daria Fanfic By  
Brandon League  
(Brnleague@aol.com)  
  
Legalities: Daria and her pals are owned by MTV/Viacom and not me. There, you happy! Also, the songs "Return Of The Fly," "Halloween," and "Halloween II" were written by The Misfits and I believe are the property of Glenn Danzig. The title "I Remember Halloween" comes from the song "Halloween." I'm not sure, but Glenn Danzig is too damn busy to care. Assuming he DOES read Daria fanfic though, GLENN I'm not making a cent off of this!  
  
Summary: One unassuming day, Daria becomes obsessed with a classic punk tune.   
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"So...creating another monster are we, Jane?"  
  
Daria Morgendorffer smirked down at her best friend Jane Lane, who was sitting Indian-style on the floor of her room, deeply engrossed in her newest artistic venture. As far as Daria could see, Jane was using liquid cement to attach a two-by-four to two cinderblocks. Several multi-colored clothes hangers were scattered around the room. What Jane was going to do with THOSE, Daria shuddered to think. Jane didn't look up; rather, she appeared to be in a sort of daze. Daria sighed. She knew from past experience that Jane only got this way when her creative juices were at their most volatile. Daria also knew that getting her attention when she was like this required the utmost subtlety and tact.  
  
"Ow! Damn it, Daria!"  
  
Jane looked up at her best friend with a start, rubbing her ear where Daria had pinched her. "Was that really necessary?"  
  
Daria smirked. "You're just lucky I left the hot irons at home today."  
  
"Yeah, lucky me, and I have the deformed ear to prove it."  
  
Daria glanced down at the unusual sculpture that was beginning to take shape on the floor. "Dare I ask what this is going to be, or should I wait and find out from the nice people at the sanitarium?"  
  
"Scoff if you will, but I believe this will be my finest work ever, and believe it or not it was actually inspired by the Fashion Club."  
  
Daria raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"I'm serious! Look, you see how the wooden plank sitting on top of the cinderblocks looks like a bridge? Well, as soon as I get the plank secured to the blocks, I'm gonna line the edges of the plank with the different colored clothes hangers. I call it 'The Path To Popularity'."  
  
"I see," said Daria. "So, I should just have the straitjacket delivered   
here, then."  
  
"You're a laugh riot, kid," Jane said, returning to her sculpture.  
  
"Do you mind if I turn on the tube? It's time for Sick Sad World." Daria eyed the television with an almost lustful (for her) expression.  
  
Jane waved at the television with a noncommittal grunt.  
  
"Gee thanks." Daria rolled her eyes.   
  
She sat down on the bed and with a flick of the remote control the television sprang to life. Just as the television came on, she heard the Sick Sad World announcer exclaim in his usual excited tone, "After all these years are Satanic messages still hidden in your favorite rock and roll albums? No! They've moved into your cereal bowl! Satanic Sugar Pops! They're devilishly good! Next on Sick Sad World!"  
  
"Damn, a rerun," Daria muttered.  
  
She lay back on the bed and stared grumpily at the ceiling. She didn't want to go back home, Jake was trying a new spaghetti recipe and she refused to endure the smell until she absolutely had to. She-  
  
At just that moment, loud music came from out of nowhere, making Daria and Jane jump. However, Daria was used to loud music springing up from out of nowhere in this house, so she didn't sit up. She lay there and continued to stare at Jane's ceiling. Jane, though, was NOT in the mood to be tolerant.  
  
With a growl, Jane jumped up and ran across the room. She beat on her wall with her closed fist and bellowed, "NOT AGAIN TRENT! TURN THAT GODDAMNED CD PLAYER DOWN!"  
  
Fuming, Jane did an about face, turned, and stalked back to her seat on the floor. Just as she sat down, the music significantly decreased in volume. It could still be heard, but it was no longer at an eardrum crushing volume. With a scowl, Jane muttered, "I swear to God, I'm gonna murder Max."  
  
Daria's interest was piqued. She sat up and looked inquiringly at Jane. "What's this about a murder? Jane, are you having fun behind my back again?"  
  
Jane looked up at Daria with an evil look in her eye. "Max loaned Trent two of his CD's, 'The Misfits Collection I and II.' For two days, all I have heard are The Misfits played at mind numbing volume. Apparently, Mystik Spiral are in a rut and Max thought that loaning Trent two CD's by his favorite band would be the inspirational thing to do." Jane paused and grumbled; "I don't know HOW much of an inspiration it is to listen to 'Return Of The Fly' thirty-four times in a row."  
  
Daria, meanwhile, was listening to the music coming through the wall. She concentrated as she listened, because she was sure that she had caught something interesting. The tune itself was catchy, it was gloomy and moody, but at the same time, it had a definite "garage punk" vibe to it. She listened thoughtfully and sure enough-  
  
"Latin! Jane, that song's in Latin!" Daria eyes widened. Imagine a punk band that wrote a song in Latin! That was wild.  
  
Jane looked up at Daria, a cool smile on her face. "Yeah, Trent likes that one a lot too. What a coincidence, huh?"  
  
Daria shot Jane a dirty look. "Two years, Jane. Does that mean anything to you?"  
  
Jane chuckled.   
  
"I'll be right back," Daria said, ignoring the chuckle. She had never wanted to talk to Trent so badly in her life. She was completely enthralled by the thought of a punk song written in Latin. She hurried out of Jane's room and walked down the hall to Trent's room. She paused for only a second outside his door and then knocked. And knocked. And knocked.  
  
After the fifth knock, the door opened and there stood Trent. He looked a little unfocused and more than a little disheveled. In other words, he looked like he always did. He focused his eyes and stared at Daria for a second before saying, "Hey Daria." Trent paused. "Is my music still too loud?"  
  
"No Trent, it's not that," Daria reassured him. "It's just...that song, it's kind of catchy and I wanted to hear it better. Can I come in?"  
  
Trent turned for a moment and glanced at his CD player, as if realizing for the first time that it was on. Then the full gist of her question hit him, and he grinned at Daria. "Sure, come on in. It's a good one."  
  
Daria entered the room. It, too, looked unfocused and disheveled. Jeans and shirts were thrown all over, the bed was unmade, and hundreds and hundreds of CD's were all over the floor. The room suited Trent to a tee, she realized, staring at the mallard duck phone by Trent's bed. She looked around timidly for a place to sit.  
  
She didn't have to wait long. Like the knight in shining denim that he was, Trent swooped over and grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt that bore the tender sentiment, "I Fuck Sheep" and threw them both across the room. He picked up an old Black Sabbath CD and threw it on his bed and then presented Daria with a clean patch of carpet right next to the CD player on which she could sit.  
  
"My hero," she deadpanned.  
  
He grinned at her and rummaged around on the counter for a second, before finding what he was looking for. He handed it to Daria. She looked at the object in her hand, a cracked CD case. "You'll need the lyric booklet," Trent told her, "this particular song is written in Non-Standard Latin."  
  
Daria looked at him strangely. Trent must have read something in her eyes because he blushed and said, "Um, it says so in the lyrics book."  
  
"Ah...I see. Trent, what's it called?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The song," she prodded gently.  
  
"Oh," he said, "its called 'Halloween II.'"  
  
Daria looked curiously at him. "'Halloween II?' You mean, like the horror movie?"  
  
Trent looked back at her, and there was a sage, almost wise look in his eye. Daria knew what that meant. Trent was about to explain something that he himself had pondered often.  
  
"Well, Daria. The title is the same, but I don't think that the song and the movie are related in any way. Even though The Misfits were in full strength in the late 70's and early 80's, and 'Halloween II' the movie was released in theatres in 1981." Trent paused a moment, and then he continued. "Another curious fact, is that when The Misfits broke up in the early 80's, singer Glenn Danzig formed another band out of its ashes, and he called it Samhain. In the movie 'Halloween II,' there WAS that famous scene where the word "Samhain" was written in blood on the chalkboard and Dr. Loomis explains about the festival of Samhain, so they MAY be related..."  
  
Trent glanced at Daria and noticed that she was staring at him with her mouth open. He blushed and murmured, "I don't think the song's about Michael Myers though. The lyrics and the translation are both in there."   
  
Daria recovered and pulled the lyric booklet out of the CD case. She flipped it forward until she came to the lyrics for the tenth song, 'Halloween II,' which, not surprisingly, were right after the lyrics for the song 'Halloween.' She smirked and read the lyrics.  
  
"Formulae ueteres exorsismorum et  
excommunicationum  
Strigas et fictos lupos credere  
Daemon pellem lupinam  
In trunco quodam cauae  
Arboris occultandum  
Metamorphoses lycanthropie  
Possunt inquam  
Metamorphoses lycanthropie  
Possunt inquam  
  
(The above is non-standard Latin.  
Translation:  
  
Ancient formulas of exorcisms and  
excommunications  
That witches and those made   
wolves believe  
I am now the demon clothed  
in wolfskin  
Having to hide in the hollow of a tree  
I say werewolves can change shapes)  
  
Daria was speechless. Her very first thought was, Damn, Andrea would love this. It was dark, gloomy, and Goth, but at the same time it was clever and hard edge. It was the very essence of the holiday of Halloween, at its dark and evil core. It was poetic and hauntingly beautiful. In one word, it was simply-  
  
"Wow," Daria whispered.  
  
"Yeah," muttered Trent as he unpaused the CD and restarted the song. "Check this out." He played the song all the way through for her and she listened attentively. It was wonderful. It had a driving punk beat and at the same time it had a dark Gothic pulse as Glenn Danzig chanted in Latin. Even when he finished the chanting and sang the word "Halloween" over and over, Daria was still enchanted by the whole gothic/punk experience.   
  
When the song ended, she wordlessly restarted it. Five times in a row Daria Morgendorffer lost herself in that magnificent song, before she came to her senses and turned off the CD player. She was fully aware of one thing and one thing only. The next time she went to Cranberry Commons, she was going to buy 'The Misfits Collection Volume II.'  
  
Daria turned to face Trent. "Thanks Trent, I appreciate-"  
  
Trent, however was fast asleep, his head turned back and his mouth wide open. Daria smirked and softly ruffled his hair. "Thanks Trent," she whispered.  
  
Wordlessly, she left Trent's room and returned to Jane's. As she came into the room, her Partner-In-Crime glanced up at her and grinned sadistically. "So? When's the wedding?"  
  
Daria scowled. "It's right after Quinn receives her Nobel Peace Prize for advances in the field of waterproof eyeliner."  
  
Jane snickered.  
  
"Hey, Jane, I'm gonna bail. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"So soon, amiga?"  
  
"Um, yeah, I think I hear Jake's spaghetti calling."  
  
"Sure you do kid," Jane said, unconvinced.  
  
Daria walked out of Jane's room with a wave over her shoulder and walked down the stairs towards the front door that would lead her one step closer to home, where she had no doubt that she could con Helen into letting her borrow the SUV for a little while. She felt a trip to the Mall was in order.   
  
"Oh yes," said Daria Morgendorffer quietly as her hand fell on the doorknob. "I remember Halloween."  
  
She gave a Mona Lisa smile.  
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End Notes: You like? I hope that you do. I had a LOT of fun writing this. Do you believe that I got my inspiration sitting at a red light in 90-degree weather listening to The Misfits? Well you heard it here first! While I have your attention, I want to get some thanks off my chest. Thanks to Martin J. Pollard, the Cheech to my Chong, to Thea Zara, my fluffy little sheep. Thea, believe me, Trent's tee shirt reference is not about you! It deals with a tee shirt I saw at OzzFest '99. I swear! It was too funny not to reference! Also thanks to Roger E. Moore, Mman, Crusading Saint, Robert Nowall (Boxing Daria 2 is the greatest thing I have EVER read), and that sweet cuddly Kemical Reaxion (My Love Slave). KIDDING! Smooches, Kem!!! Feel free to review this, as usual, but I must INSIST! No death threats or marriage proposals. I will accept neither! ENJOY! 


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